


Guilt

by Demon_Apostle



Series: Dragon Age Keep [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dragon Age Spoilers, Guilt, M/M, Sad, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:31:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5300390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Apostle/pseuds/Demon_Apostle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guilt has been eating away at him. Gadrial doesn't know how much longer he can fool Zevran into thinking nothing is wrong. As it turns out, he can't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of the Dragon Age Series. I hated Morrigan... then liked her... then hated her again... then wondered what the hell would happen if Zevran found out and so I wrote this because my heart needed a happy conclusion to this dilemma. I'm sorry it's trash.

Warden Commander Mahariel.

 

It almost doesn’t sound real and yet some part of Gadrial is telling him that yes, he is now a grey warden of high rank and is in charge of recruits and training. He’s still alive, Alistair is king, and Zevran is still beside him, bad jokes and all. He’s the Hero of Fereldan who killed the Archdemon with the help of an unlikely and diverse group that he had grown close to.

 

Another part is telling him that this shouldn’t be happening.

 

Riordan had told him what would happen to the warden who made the killing blow and that’s why Gadrial thinks this is a dream. He should be dead along with the Archdemon but he’s not and to the elf, the reason behind his miraculous survival is the worst part he has to try and stomach about all of this. The one thing he can’t come to terms with and it feels like the knowledge of his escape from death is eating away at his insides.

 

Being called Hero of Fereldan and Warden Commander Mahariel, he can get used to. The crushing and heavy guilt in his chest, he probably never will.

 

 _But it was for Zevran. I wanted to stay with him. I didn’t want to leave him alone._ You took the easy way out. You would have felt guilty even if you had died.

 

 _I couldn’t ask Alistair knowing his rocky relationship with her. I’m his friend._ Excuses for wanting to live longer than fate had intended. You betrayed Zevran. Alistair would have been fine.

 

His internal arguments almost go on forever, every excuse having a counter-argument ready to explain why he should have died at the top of Fort Drakon. He’s almost starting to wish he had.

 

“Are you alright amour? You seem lost in thought.” Perceptive as always, a trait Gadrial is starting to dislike about the alluring Antivan. But he supposes he’d be even more upset if Zevran never noticed the small changes in his behavior that indicated something was wrong. But while he’d normally explain his reasons for being distracted, he could never tell his lover that his head had gone back to its internal conflict about what happened with Morrigan. So instead, he lies to the one person he never wanted to betray.

 

“Just thinking about the training regimens for the recruits. Some of them seem to be having trouble learning how to wield a sword.” Zevran hums next to him and doesn’t say anything more as he watches the new wardens spar with each other. Gadrial feels both joy and anguish that Zevran believes him but he tries not to let it show. Instead, he focuses on the new stack of papers another grey warden hands him and he skims over the words, hoping it will distract him long enough to make him forget.

 

It works until night draws near and it’s time for the grey wardens to turn in and get some rest. Gadrial found it funny that he used to love sleep when he was still with his clan. Listening to the children mumble in broken elven, the sounds of the halla’s hooves against the dirt and grass as they grazed. It was bliss to Gadrial. Then he became a grey warden. His love of sleep changed once the Archdemon began making its presence known in his dreams. The elf figured he’d never get another peaceful night of rest again. And when he finally did for a few nights, more nightmares began to plague his slumber. He almost resisted sleep altogether until Zevran put a stop to it.

 

“Would you rather fall unconscious in the middle of a fight because you didn’t get any rest? I’d rather not have to deal with Alistair’s crying because his dear friend died while fighting due to lack of sleep.” Although he had spoken in a playful tone, Gadrial had heard the concern laced along the words and he relented. He found that some nights did let him sleep peacefully, curled up against his lover’s warm embrace on a massive bed. Other nights weren’t as nice but he played off the mumbling and sudden alertness on memories of the battle.

 

Then came that one night where everything went wrong. He remembered it clearly. Experienced hands roamed over his body as he gripped the sheets, soft moans and whines spilling from his mouth. He felt his body shiver in pleasure, muscles twitch in anticipation, and his breathing turned ragged from how fast his heart was beating. Every kiss, every touch sent sparks through his skin as though electricity was pouring from his lover’s fingertips. Little nips to his earlobes made him whine louder as he teetered on the verge of begging.

 

“Do not worry my dear warden. I will take care of everything.” His eyes snapped open as his mind recalled a memory involving the same words. Taboo words he never wanted to remember and oh creators he couldn’t seem to block out the memory of that night, those hands on his skin, that voice in his ear. It was wrong, so wrong but he didn’t want to die and leave his friends, his lover. But the guilt. The guilt was already there, sown deep into his heart where it waits to strike and leave him defenseless. Of all the things to say, those were the words chosen and they became an accidental knife to his heart.

 

“Amour, are you alright?” The pause and sudden stiffness of his lover made Zevran pause and look to see what was wrong only to find Gadrial staring up in horror at seemingly nothing. The night had been going so well but it somehow turned sour very quickly and the Antivan had no idea why.

 

“Amour, did I say something to upset you?” Gadrial looks at the other elf, taking in shaky breaths, and all too quickly shakes his head.

 

“No, no. You said nothing wrong Zevran. I just… nothing. It’s nothing emma lath. We can continue.” But Zevran was not convinced. His lover’s reaction and quick denial signaled a red flag for the former Crow. Something was bothering his dear grey warden, had been for a while now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t find out what it was. If it had something to do with him then he wanted to rectify it immediately.

 

“Please, tell me what is bothering you. Did I do or say something you didn’t like?” Another frantic shake of the head.

 

“I swear it’s nothing. You don’t have to worry. Everything’s fine.” Zevran still wasn’t convinced.

 

“Gadrial. Please.” He was defeated. The hero knew Zevran was already aware that something was wrong and trying to get the other elf to drop the subject would be near impossible unless he was really persuasive. He had yet to out-seduce Zevran so that choice was obviously unavailable. He sighed, pushing Zevran away so he could sit with the covers over his now cold body. His knees came to his chest and he hugged himself in what Zevran perceived as the most vulnerable position Gadrial had ever been in. It was almost painful for Zevran to witness but he wanted to hear what his lover had to say.

 

“You remember the night before we took on the darkspawn? When Riordan called me and Alistair to his room?”

 

“Of course. Everyone was anxious preparing for battle.”

 

“Riordan told us… he told us that grey wardens existed for a reason. It wasn’t because we could fight darkspawn without worrying about getting the taint and dying. Apparently, wardens are the only way you can kill an Archdemon permanently. But once a grey warden makes the choice to deliver the final blow, his life is forfeit.” A brief silence hung between them and when Gadrial figured that Zevran wasn’t going to comment, he continued.

 

“He was going to take the final blow you know. Kill the Archdemon and end the blight. He told us that because he was the oldest grey warden, he would kill himself to end the battle.” It was here that Zevran took the opportunity to speak.

 

“That obviously didn’t work out. He died before we even reached the top of Fort Drakon. But if the grey warden dies, how are you still alive?”

 

“… Morrigan.” Gadrial felt so bitter saying the name but the overwhelming desire to vomit arose with what he was going to explain next. He just hoped Zevran wouldn’t react too badly. But he then put himself in Zevran’s place, imagined how he would feel knowing his lover slept with another person, a spiteful woman no less, and imaginary anger and hurt burrowed into his chest at the betrayal. Zevran would probably feel the same, no doubt, but what made it so much more nerve-wracking was not knowing how the elf was going to react. If Gadrial had to guess, he would calmly tell the Dalish elf how hurt he felt, explain that it was over, and leave for good. He would expect no less given the circumstances but it would still hurt like hell. Might as well get it over with.

 

“Morrigan overheard our talk and gave me an offer. She could perform a ritual that guaranteed the grey warden would survive killing the Archdemon. A grey warden was needed if it was going to be complete.”

 

“I take it that from how you’re explaining this that you helped with the ritual. Did it involve blood magic?” Gadrial shook his head, enclosing his arms tighter around himself.

 

“No. It had nothing to do with blood magic. It was worse. I shouldn’t have done it. Maybe asked Riordan or Alistair. But Alistair would never have agreed. Riordan… he might have done it but… there was no guarantee… I’m so sorry, I’m… ir abelas.” He felt a hand touch his arm and he clenched his fists.

 

“Amour, why are you sorry? What was the ritual?” Gadrial moved a hand to gently grasp Zevran’s wrist, moving away the hand that was gently touching him. It would only hurt more once Zevran walked away from him after being gentle to Gadrial. He needed to steel himself for the imminent moment they’re no longer together. With the hand now gone, the hero explained what happened that night.

 

“For the ritual to work, Morrigan needed to conceive a child. The Archdemon’s soul would seek out the child like a beacon instead of taking the grey warden’s life. And in order for her to conceive a child… she would…”

 

“She would need to have sex… you’re telling me that you had sex with Morrigan?” Gadrial nodded his head and waited for Zevran to walk out and leave. Why had he been so stupid? Maybe if he had tried then he could have persuaded Alistair to do the ritual with Morrigan. Maybe Riordan would have taken his place instead. Morrigan said she needed a grey warden. She didn’t say it had to be him even if he was the one she proposed the ritual to. Creators, he was so stupid. He foresaw this moment even before agreeing, knew that dying would have been preferable to the pain he would feel once Zevran found out and left him because of his betrayal, but he thought he could have kept it a secret until the Calling claimed his life. He was so stupid. Nothing he says now will rebuild Zevran’s trust in him. He’ll have to deal with being alone again but he might manage.

 

“Why did you agree to the ritual?” Gadrial squeezes his eyes shut as he hears the hurt in Zevran’s voice. It’s small but still present and he just wishes Zevran would hurry and leave instead of dragging out his guilty confession. Maybe it’s what he deserves though.

 

“I… I didn’t want to die. I thought about what would happen if I took the blow instead of Riordan. The possibility he wouldn’t be there to end the blight. If I was to take the final blow, I would never see my friends again. I would never see you again. I felt desperate and I didn’t want to leave everyone alone.”

 

“You didn’t do it because you wanted to sleep with Morrigan?” The question made Gadrial angry but he knew it was probably nowhere near how Zevran felt. He endured and answered anyway.

 

“Creators, no. I couldn’t even stand the thought of being in bed with her. I felt sick.” While he had considered the mage to be a friend, never once had the thought of having sex with her crossed his mind. He had sworn to never do that with anyone other than Zevran. An oath he had quickly broken when the option to escape death was presented to him.

 

“Gadrial, look at me.” Reluctantly, Gadrial slowly raised his head and looked at Zevran’s calm face, tears falling down his cheeks. The Dalish elf hadn’t even realized he was crying. Maybe he had been squeezing his eyes closed too hard. But he was surprised when no hint of anger or hurt was evident on Zevran’s face. Instead, the other elf seemed completely calm about the situation. It confused Gadrial but he didn’t say anything about it and only watched as Zevran inched closer until he was right in front of the hero’s vulnerable form, his hands rubbing along Gadrial’s arms.

 

“You must have been dealing with that guilt for a long time now, no? You didn’t want me to be upset so you took part in Morrigan’s ritual and even hid what you had done from me. But I want you to know that I don’t hate you amour. I’m not upset.” Gadrial couldn’t believe his ears. There was no way the man would just forgive him so easily. Was he playing a trick, lower Gadrial’s guard so that the moment he really does decide to break up with the elf, it’ll hurt even more?

 

“How? How can you forgive me so easily after I… after I…?” Zevran only offered a soft smile.

 

“I grew up in a whorehouse amour. I was led to believe love wasn’t real or attainable. You showed me otherwise. I know you wouldn’t have done the ritual unless you truly felt it was necessary. The fact that you did it so you could continue living for me and our friends is enough for me.” Gadrial broke down, tears falling faster than before. He wondered how Zevran forgave him after what he had done but his relief told him to just savor the other elf’s acceptance of his stupidity even if he had not seen it as such. He had been so sure Zevran would leave but his assumption was wrong and he had been grateful for once. The guilt that had accumulated since the final battle dispersed and was no longer eating away at him. Now it gave way to another question.

 

_Why had I not done that sooner?_

**Author's Note:**

> Emma lath-My love  
> Ir abelas-I'm sorry


End file.
